by Karina Halle
I cleared my throat. “Once again, it was my idea to do this. I didn’t believe in a Sasquatch.”
“Do you now?”
I shook my head in confusion. “I don’t know what I believe. Something was here though. Something big with sharp claws and it was right beneath our window.”
Dex looked over my shoulder at the cabin and his gaze trailed beyond that. “Maybe it’s Rigby. Or Christina.”
“Or Mitch,” I supplied.
He fixed his eyes on mine. “Maybe.”
“But why?”
“Publicity.”
The wheels started turning in my head. “Publicity. But this would be bad publicity.”
Dex took a step closer and lowered his voice in confidence. “But it’s better than no publicity. And in this economy, it’s worth as much as gold.”
He scratched at his nose and looked around him again. “Look, Rigby and Christina could be telling the truth. Or they could all be big fat liars who brought us out here so their business would get featured on the show.”
“What about Mitch?”
“I’m sure Mitch would benefit too. But I’m not too sure about him yet. He seems like the type who would go around bagging Labrador puppies, but he doesn’t strike me as smart or someone who would keep his mouth shut about this kind of thing.”
“So you think there is no Beast here at all?”
His eyes narrowed in thought. “I honestly don’t know. But before we both start freaking out over this, maybe we need to take things with a grain of salt.”
I nodded and eyed the prints again. “So what now? Do we tell Mitch what we found?”
He bit his lip for a few moments. “Tell you what, I’ll go back inside and get the camera. We’ll record it and then destroy the evidence. I don’t think we need to say anything to him right now.”
He took off and a minute later he was quickly filming the prints, whispering commentary into the camera. I felt momentarily ousted as cameraperson but decided to ignore it. And when he switched it off, checking around to see if Mitch had witnessed any of it, I went over and snatched it out of his hands.
The corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. “Worried I’m stepping on your toes?”
“A little bit,” I admitted, cradling the camera in my arms like a baby.
He studied me for a beat before turning his attention to the ground and quickly rubbing his black army boots through the snow, covering up the prints so all that was left was a messy disturbance.
He stepped back to admire his footwork and shook his head. “No. Doesn’t look right. Too much snow.”
With glinting eyes he turned to me and smiled. Then, as quick as a flash, he bent down, scooped up snow into his hand, balling it up.
I had no time to react. I saw white, then the snowball connected with my head with a thump, sending snow flying everywhere, including down into my eyes.
I blew the snow away from my face and tried to glare at him through watery eyes.
“I was wondering how long it would take you to-”
Whoomp.
Another snowball, this time it impacted on my shoulder.
I dusted the snow off my coat with my free hand and gave him the biggest stinkeye I could muster.
“How old are you again? Twelve?”
He grinned, teeth white as the snow he had freshly gathered.
“Old enough to make you come, young enough to make you hate me for it.”
“Oh jeez,” I muttered, shaking my head, and turned around.
Bam.
Snowball to the back of my head.
I didn’t bother turning around and just walked straight to the outhouse, hearing him call behind me.
“Aww, spoilsport.”
~~~
The rest of the day Dex and I stayed mum about the footprints, which was easy since Mitch took off after our lunch of dehydrated soup, mumbling something about spotting deer in the area. That gave Dex and I a whole lot of time to do nothing.
Well, I did nothing, except flip through about 20 old Reader’s Digests that were left on the bookshelf. Dex took a nap in the bedroom. For a brief instant I wondered if us having time alone together would result in seduction of some sort. It was incredibly romantic, when you thought about it. Both of us were alone in a cabin in the woods, a light snow falling outside, a roaring fire with that God damn rug that I could not stop thinking about having sex on. I had a short fantasy of him inviting me to bed with him, or perhaps taking me right there on the floor. If we were together like that, there would be no downtime for us. We’d never be bored.
But we weren’t together like that and we weren’t together at all and that was a good thing. Whatever I had now with Dex was strained at times and weird at best, but we were managing. I’d probably manage better if I wasn’t so horny, if I wasn’t so tempted to just jump him half the time. And if I hadn’t found out that his tattoo was about me. That definitely threw me for another loop, adding another layer of confusion to our relationship dip.
I have to admit, I was a bit worried about myself, afraid I would do something stupid again, like try and give him a blowjob. It was one thing to avoid getting drunk around him, but sometimes I feared I would just kiss him out of the blue. Then what would happen? We’d have sex, most definitely. But then what? What did that lead to between us except for douchecanoe maneuvers and heartache?
Well, and a tattoo.
That damn tattoo. Dex saw the light.
He saw me.
I shook my head of the thoughts, trying to ease away the slow squeezing of my chest and the warmth between my legs. Funny how part of you could be so emotionally confused, yet the other part just wanted to get the fuck off.
I flipped the pages of the musty-smelling digest, turning my thoughts to Ada and wondering how she was holding up with my parents. I missed them all to be honest with you. Ada the most, but I also missed my father’s snide comments when he watched the news at night, or the way my mom prettied herself in the hall mirror before stepping outside. Silly, stupid things, but I missed them just the same. I had to remind myself that things wouldn’t have stayed easy had I remained behind. They would have been watching me like crazy, waiting for me to go crazy. Like poor Pippa.
The thought of her also added an extra pang to my insides. I wondered where she was right now, if she was watching me. I wondered about the Thin Veil and how close it was to me. If I looked hard enough for it, could I see it? And if I could, would I go through it? I went in somewhat normal and came out with some weird ability for Ada – and maybe others – to hear my thoughts. What would happen if I went through again?
My eyes gazed around the cabin, growing a bit sleepy from the approaching twilight and the heat of the flames. Pippa no longer scared me and I hoped that one day she would show herself to me again. I still had questions and I knew none of this, the hardships she faced, was going to bypass me completely.
I must have fallen asleep in my chair because the next thing I knew I was waking up to hear Dex and Mitch laughing over the clatter of plates and cutlery.
I raised my head, a stream of drool latching onto my shoulder, and looked behind me at the kitchen area. The two of them were chopping up some small dead animal and they even seemed to be getting along. I didn’t like that one bit.
I wiped my chin and got up, weak from the nap and not surprised to see it was pitch black outside.
Dex was the first to notice my presence.
“Sleeping beauty is awake,” he said with a smirk.
I rested my elbow on the chair and watched them from a distance. “What are you guys doing?”
“Wow, you really were out like a light,” Dex commented. “You sure you didn’t get into Mitch’s bourbon? I feel like I could take you on tonight, if you did.”
He waggled his brows suggestively. I responded with a wry look and was pleased to see Mitch was eyeing Dex with careful disdain, like he never considered him a threat until that moment. Perhaps I shouldn’t have felt sm
ug over that, but I wanted Mitch to know his creepy game wouldn’t go very far.
I nodded at the animal. “What is that?”
Mitch slowly pried his hawk eyes off of Dex and went back to slicing and dicing.
“Hare,” he growled and whacked a cleaver down hard. “And grouse.”
Oh, yum. I quickly thought about reverting to vegetarianism.
“We’ve got a grill going on outside,” Dex said, washing his hands with a bottle of water and hand sanitizer. “I have no doubt it’ll be tastier than it looks.”
I nodded absently and made my way over to the door, getting my coat off the peg and piling on my scarf and hat. That was the most annoying thing about being where we were: every time I wanted to use the bathroom, I had to brave the elements. I felt like the younger brother in A Christmas Story.
When I came back, Mitch was standing over a grill he had set up by the door, turning over the grouse on the hot coals. The smell it gave off was delicious and the steam and heat formed thick clouds in the cold night air above.
“He seems to think you’re his woman,” he said under his breath. His tone made my back feel like snow had dribbled down it.
I clamped my mouth shut, trying not to say anything as I walked to the door but just as I closed my hand around the knob, I said in a haughty voice, “He can think any damn thing he wants.”
I wondered how much of that I actually meant.
To my surprise, the packet of mashed potatoes and grilled grouse was actually tasty. Much better than the canned crap we had been eating. I begrudgingly told Mitch that. He just glared at me, which I preferred to his other look. Dex seemed to pick up on the strain between us but he was happily stuffing his face and didn’t say anything.
The three of us retired to the living room after dinner – and by that, I mean we moved a couple of feet and plunked ourselves down, me on the rug, face to the fire, and Dex and Mitch on the armchairs. Mitch had finished off the old bottle of bourbon and had brought out another, albeit cheaper, version. This time Dex and I did partake in a glass each, both of which Dex iced with a clump of fresh snow. It was delicious and though I was keeping myself in check, I was grateful for the simple act of drinking. It gave us something to do instead of just staring at each other, and despite being sluggish from the heavy meal, I knew it would be quite a while before I was ready for bed. My mind was racing and that vague threat of the beast – or someone pretending to be the beast – was sitting at the back of my head.
I had taken my last sip of bourbon and was debating whether I should ask Mitch for another or not when the dim cabin was suddenly aglow with a blinding bright light.
“The motion detectors,” Dex announced excitedly, quickly getting out of the chair and heading to the windows. Mitch did the same, while I rolled over and scooped the camera off of the table.
Even with a heavy sweater on, I could feel my hairs standing straight up on my arms. I was scared of being scared, as stupid as that sounded, and made sure I was right beside Dex, my shoulder rubbing against his.
“Turn it on,” he hissed at me, not taking his eyes off of the scene outside.
I did as he said and kept the camera focused out the window. I held it still while my own eyes came off the viewfinder and scanned the scene. There was nothing outside that I could see. It had stopped snowing for the moment and the trees were still. We all stared until the fog from inside steamed up the glass and no amount of rubbing would clear the view.
Mitch slipped on his boots and a jacket and picked up his shotgun that was resting behind the door.
“Let me check this out,” he barked, the crazy excitement showing in his eyes. He opened the door and bolted out into the night. I gave Dex the camera while I quickly got dressed for the elements and soon we were outside too, our boots making no noise on the fresh powder. It was colder than normal and when I looked up to the sky I saw only a few thick clouds hanging lazily near the moon. Everything was still and I couldn’t hear much except the beating of my heart and Dex’s ragged breath beside me, the air freezing in thin clouds near his face.
Everything was illuminated by the cold lights, bathing us in an otherworldly blue glow. Dex’s face took on a sickly pallor against his dark hair and eyes.
“You still filming?” he whispered as he searched the darkness beyond the light.
“Yes sir,” I answered, though I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be filming. What had tripped the lights?
“Maybe we should go check on the llamas?” Dex asked.
“Why?”
He cocked a brow at me. “Because we’d look like quite the idiots if we’re freaking out because Twatwaffle got loose.”
Fair enough. Still, I wanted to know where Mitch went.
“Mitch?” I called out softly. I didn’t want to yell and attract attention to myself, even though it was pretty obvious that if there was something out there, it knew about us. It could have easily been watching us from the trees and we wouldn’t have a clue. I hoped to God I wouldn’t see glints of red in the darkness.
Dex tugged at my arm. “Come on. I’m sure he’s finding something new to kill.”
“I just hope it’s not us,” I said under my breath but I let Dex lead me around the other side of the cabin toward the corral where the llamas were kept.
We were halfway between the cabin and the pen, amongst a border of low bushes, when we were suddenly engulfed in darkness. The motion detectors went out and the cloud had settled over the moon.
“Shit,” Dex swore. “I knew I should have brought a flashlight.”
I turned and looked back at the cabin. The light from inside was barely visible, this side of the cabin having no windows.
I chewed on my cold lip, feeling the moisture evaporate in the dry air.
“Do you have that light for the camera?” I asked.
“Inside,” he said with sigh. “Well, fuck, let’s just run back and-“
He was cut off by a blood-curdling scream. I don’t use that phrase lightly. That scream was inhuman and made my insides shrink in terror.
“This isn’t good,” Dex said quickly and I felt his arm go around my waist, holding me against him. I appreciated it but it didn’t make me feel any less terrified.
“What was that?” I squeaked. “Was that…Mitch?”
“Kiddo, I don’t even think it was human.”
Another scream punctuated the end of that sentence, followed by a few drooling rasps and growls. I pressed myself harder against Dex as the growling continued. It sounded like a pack of lions feasting on something. No, this wasn’t good. This was a nightmare. And we were far, far from home.
A shotgun blast suddenly ripped through the air, making us both jump where we were standing. It sounded from the other side of the cabin and was followed by a “Jesus Christ.”
It was Mitch. Dex grabbed my hand and began running toward the cabin. I kept the camera on though it was capturing nothing but our legs as we scampered through billows of soft snow.
When we came around the corner and were able to see a bit from the firelight of the cabin windows, we saw Mitch’s silhouette near the outhouse. The motion detector lights hadn’t come back on despite the commotion, which made me wonder if they were even working anymore.
“Mitch!” Dex yelled and we walked toward him cautiously. After all, he had just fired off a shotgun and we didn’t want to surprise him.
As we got closer we could see a tiny light bobbing up and down, then fix its focus on us, blinding us for a second.
“It’s us, lay off,” I said through a shaking breath. Mitch lowered the flashlight so it was illuminating the ground again.
“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” he replied blankly.
As we got closer, the color red jumped into my vision. The ground near Mitch’s feet was smeared in it. My heartbeat intensified in my throat and I felt unsteady all over. Dex squeezed my hand again for comfort as we stopped just a couple of feet away.
At Mit
ch’s feet lay a pool of spreading blood, an ugly dark blot on the pristine whiteness. In the middle of that dark, bloody smudge was a llama’s head. One of them had been decapitated, and cleanly from the look of it.
Not that I was looking long. Upon the realization of what it was, and that this was all real, I turned away and buried my head into the crook of Dex’s arm. With stealth, he simultaneously hugged me and got the camera out of my hand.
“Twatwaffle?” Dex asked.
I felt a wad of disgust come up my throat. “His name was Apricot,” I sneered into his sleeve.
“Or Jackass,” Mitch offered, sounding faintly amused. “What a way to go.”
I still didn’t dare look, so I kept my head buried in Dex’s coat while they talked.
“How does…” Dex began. I felt his muscles tensing. “How does this happen?”
“I don’t know. I heard him scream, so I ran back out of the woods and saw something bending over him ripping him to shreds.”
I shuddered and Dex held me closer, though I knew he was trying to film at the same time.
“You were in the woods?”
“I heard something growling, I thought it was a black bear.”
“You keep saying bears, but don’t bears hibernate?”
“Not for as long as you’d think. Anyway, I didn’t get far before this sorry bastard started hollering. I saw the thing and I shot at it.”
“You didn’t get a better look at it?”
“I saw the thing and I shot at it,” Mitch repeated, his patience being tested. “I didn’t have time to figure out what it was.”
“Well, shit.”
A silence filled the air and I lifted my head up out of Dex’s arm to get fresh air. I kept my eyes facing toward the cabin. Besides, someone had to watch our backs.
“Where is the rest of the llama?” I asked. “What kind of animal decapitates another animal?”
“Beats me,” said Mitch. “Heads are usually eaten. There’s a trail though, all blood, leading right down the slope. I know where Rigby says it would go.”